


The Song

by WhenPuttingPentoPaper



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Caught, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Misunderstandings, Peeping, Singing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenPuttingPentoPaper/pseuds/WhenPuttingPentoPaper
Summary: Based on the following ImaginexHobbit imagine: Imagine finding out that Kili has been spying on you bathing when you hear him humming the song you sing while washing up.
Relationships: Kíli (Tolkien)/Reader, Kíli/Reader
Kudos: 18





	The Song

**Author's Note:**

> Reposed from Tumblr.
> 
> I know the imagine is five years old, but I always loved reading the works that came of it. This is my own spin on the prompt, and there will be multiple parts. This is just the first. This is also my first work for this blog, and I’m very happy to get it out there. It was a joy to write over the past week. Also, the song is the Celtic Women’s version of Mo Ghile Mear, which is originally based on a poem about the Jacobite Rising of 1715. It has an interesting history, but I picked this version because it was the one that came to me when I thought of what the reader might sing. Because it isn’t native to Middle Earth, I changed the meaning of the song a bit; although, if you look at the translated lyrics of the chorus, it could imply the meaning I have assigned to it. Please, give it a listen; everything about it–the vocals, music, lyrics–are beautiful!

_Can you feel the river run?_

_Waves are dancing to the sun_

_Take the tide and face the sea_

_And find a way to follow me_

The soft lilt of your voice carried through the silence of the night, your only accompaniment the gentle whisper of leaves, the barely there hum of woodland critters, and the sound of drops, rolling down your bare skin to fall to the river from whence they came. Fortunately, the wind was forgiving, tepid against your cooled skin, and the water that surrounded your body up to your waist was the perfect temperature. Refreshing but not freezing.

_Leave the field and leave the fire_

_And find the flame of your desire_

_Set your heart on this far shore_

_And sing your dream to me once more_

Lifting your arms to bring your brush through another section of hair, you resumed your singing, eyes falling closed.

_'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear_

_'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear_

_Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin_

_Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear_

It was an old song but pretty, one your mother had used to sing to you when you were but a wee thing. Her ethereal voice combined with the melodic yet mysterious chorus were enough to soothe you to slumber. It was a comfort, even later on in your life, when you learned of the sad story the lyrics were weaving. A woman losing her love; a heartbreaking premise if there ever was one. And yet, it was as beautiful as the full moon’s reflection on this clear night.

_Now the time has come to leave_

_Keep the flame and still believe_

_Know that love will shine through darkness_

_One bright star to light the wave_

Scooping up some water with your free hand, you brought the liquid to your right arm, rubbing gently against your skin and removing the dirt and grime that had built up from being on the road the past few days. You switched your brush to the opposite palm, repeating the process on the opposite side. It felt _so good_ to be clean, which was why you couldn’t resist the opportunity to break away from your company of thirteen dwarves and a hobbit to come down to this river. You had known it to be here, having passed it earlier in the evening, just before Thorin had decided it was time they make camp. The lot of them had been so excited to finally sit in front of a fire and eat, but not you. Food could wait. You longed for a bath, knowing the last one you had was back in Rivendell.

_'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear_

_'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear_

_Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin_

_Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear_

You began to braid together the locks of your damp hair, having learned your lesson about letting it fly free while you roamed about Middle Earth. As your fingers twisted in and out, you began to head back towards shore, the wind having a slight chill to it now as it hit more and more of exposed skin. You broke out in gooseflesh as your feet left the water for the fine sand that made the shore. Quickly, urged on by the sudden cold and your nakedness, you finished the large plait, securing it with a band before letting it fall limp against your back. 

_Lift your voice and raise the sail_

_Know that love will never fail_

_Know that I will sing to you_

_Each night as I dream of you_

You waited a few minutes, using your hands to warm your shoulders as you walked over to the small towel you had laid out on a nearby rock. A tunic and trousers lay beside it, without dampness and warm and calling to you, but you took some time to dry yourself off, bending over to start with your legs before bringing the towel over your stomach and chest. Your arms were last, and the air would remove whatever wetness remained on your cheeks.

_'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear_

_'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear_

_Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin_

_Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear_

Finally dressed, you gathered your towel and brush, walking back towards the campsite, using deep dwarfish laughter as your guide. There was a slight upslope towards them with trees littering the path you made, but now that you were in a few layers and shoes, you did not mind the walk, continuing to sing softly to yourself until you came to the end of the song. 

A few moments later, you were being greeted by smiles and Bofur asking about your bath.

“It was wonderful, and definitely something I needed,” you responded as you placed your items by your pack before joining the Company around the fire. A bowl was put into your lap, filled about halfway with some stew. It was still steaming, thankfully, and you immediately began to eat, your stomach aching now with the prospect of being filled with food, and Bombur’s food to boot!

“Perhaps we should all partake in a bath before setting out in the morrow,” Bilbo nonchalantly suggested from beside you, and you hid your smile behind the rim of your bowl. He had been complaining of the stench that seemed to permeate the Company; you weren’t the only one having gone without a proper cleansing since your time with the elves.

The golden-haired dwarf was the first to respond to the hobbit’s suggestion, his eyes going wide with mock outrage. “ _Why, Bilbo_ , are you suggesting that we stink?”

“You know what, Fili, I think he _is_ suggesting such a thing,” Kili said, lightly hitting his brother’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “The nerve. Especially when he smells just as bad.”

“Aye,” agreed his brother, leaning towards him as he eyed Bilbo with a frown. “If not worse.”

The hobbit looked absolutely livid by the two young dwarves’ banter, and the scowl on his face with his glare directed at them had the opposite effect than what had been desired. The brothers bursted out into laughter, and the rest of the group soon joined in at poor Bilbo’s expense. Even you, who normally took pity on the object of Kili’s and Fili’s wrath were not immune to the infectious hysterics. And so, the rest of the evening continued on with small talk and howling among companions; nothing of any real note happened until you were settling down for the night.

The trouble started as you were laying out your bedroll beneath a tree, close to Bilbo and Kili, who was in the midst of doing the same. Fili was taking first watch, meaning he was away from his younger brother, and therefore, not being influenced to partake in his dastardly whims. The camp was quiet because of this, several of the company’s members already burrowed beneath their blankets, soothed to sleep by the crickets and frogs, voicing their own soothing lullaby. 

But they were not the only ones singing. 

_'Sé mo laoch mo ghile mear_

_'Sé mo Shéasar, gile mear_

It was the brunet Durin, murmuring the words to _your_ song. 

_Suan gan séan ní bhfuair mé féin_

_Ó chuaigh I gcéin mo ghile mear_

And there was only one possible way he could have heard it, as you had never, ever sung in the presence of any of the men you were currently traveling with. You couldn’t. Not knowingly. You had an awful case of nerves whenever asked to perform in front of others, so to have learned the lyrics to that song…

“Kili!” his name was a horrified gasp from your lips, and he froze in his work, his back still to you. He had gone silent, the rest of the words dying in his throat when he realized he had been caught.

You stepped over your bedroll before taking another long stride to find yourself leaning down into the young Dwarf’s face, hands on your hips. “How do you know that song?”

Kili audibly gulped, chocolate brown eyes straying from yours as he took a few moments to try and come up with some sort of an excuse, but having you this close to him, even with all your ire drifting off of your form in waves, was chasing away any coherent thought, let alone a proper explanation. And as more time passed in silence, he could feel your glare sharpening, as if getting ready to pierce right through him. His lips parted, having found his throat had gone dry, and he sucked in a bit of air to try and buy himself some more time. Of course, he had nothing to say. What _could_ he say when it was quite obvious just where he had heard that song before?

But your patience had, apparently, run out, and more than anything, you felt the sting of betrayal. This dwarf, this wonderful goofy man-child that you had come to care for, clearly wasn’t the gentleman you had initially learned him to be. All those offerings of hands to keep you from tripping, giftings of his blanket to keep you warmer at night and all those questions regarding your well-being, where had they stemmed from? How could the same person that had been so kind and polite towards you--with the occasional, meaningless prank--peak on you while you were in the middle of a bath? You had told him where you were going because you trusted that he would keep the others from following; it most certainly had _not_ been an invitation for a private viewing party. 

Unable to bear his presence any longer, you spun away from him, crossing the short distance to your bedroll and gathering it up in your arms along with the rest of your things. You walked around the Hobbit, who was currently feigning sleep to make it seem that he hadn’t been listening to your whole exchange with the young prince, and set yourself up so that he was your buffer. The whole while, you felt Kili’s eyes at your back, and when you went to lay down for the evening, in your periphery, you noticed that he had not moved from where you had left him, only now, he looked positively guilty, head hanging and bottom lip in an almost-pout. 

Your heart--infernal thing that it was--ached at his expression. He looked even smaller than usual--being a human, you were taller than him--but you couldn’t let that get to you. What he did was wrong. And the fact he had no explanation for his behavior confirmed the worst for you. He had really just come down to the river to get an eyeful of you; the performance was just an extra, one that had lingered in his mind. 

It stung, and you had trouble falling asleep that night, your back to both Bilbo and Kili. That next morning, it was Fili--not his brother--that had tapped your shoe with the tip of his boot, stirring you from slumber. Dazed, you lifted your head slowly, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Time to get up, Y/N. Thorin wants us to move out soon,” the blond dwarf said with a pitying smile; it was clear that he had woken you from a deep sleep.

Once he had walked off, you gave yourself a moment and a good stretch before getting to your feet and starting on packing. 

Beside you, Bilbo was just finishing up with his bedroll when he turned to you. The hobbit watched you for a few minutes, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally stepped towards you and said what was on his mind, “I, um, I know it probably isn’t any of my business, but your father did ask that I keep an eye out for you while on this journey. And I, obviously, saw what had happened between you and Kili last night. It isn’t clear to me what had transpired; all I gathered from the situation was that you weren’t happy he knew that song he had been singing. However, if you do feel like talking, know that I am more than willing to lend an ear, should you need it.”

It was a sweet sentiment, one that made you smile at him as you straightened to your full height. “Thanks, Bilbo. I appreciate you being willing to do that for me, but this is really between Kili and I.”

“Understood,” he responded with a nod, curls bouncing with the movement. “But if you change your mind, don’t be afraid to come to me.”

“I will. Thank you.”  
  


Unfortunately for Kili--and Fili, too, who had to hear his brother’s lamenting whenever the two of them were alone--your way of handling the situation was to completely avoid him. If he brought his pony up by yours, you’d urge yours to go a bit faster, moving between two company members so that the brown-haired prince had no choice but to remain behind you. If he tried to talk to you once camp was set, you’d make your way over to Bilbo or Bofur and talk to them as if Kili hadn’t just called your name. If you woke in the morning to find his blanket over you, you’d fold it up and place it by him. But what killed the young dwarf the most was the fact that _you wouldn’t even look at him_ , and you didn’t do it with such conviction, too, as if your eyes landing upon his features would cause you to turn to stone. That was preposterous, of course, but damn it all! He missed you!

For you, there was a simple reason for gazing everywhere but at Kili’s face. If you didn’t see the puppy dog eyes, they would have no effect on you. Plain and simple. Although, after a couple days of this, you were beginning to miss him, too. This _had_ gone on for long enough. It was childish behavior on your part--both Bilbo and Fili had said so--but they did not know what he had done! And to fix things between the two of you, a talk would have to happen, one you weren’t sure you were ready to have since it would involve bringing up the fact he had been peeping on you down at the river.

So things continued to be painful for the Company, as neither of you could find the will to broach the subject with the other, until the two of you had no choice but to have that awkward conversation. 

The setting? Mirkwood’s dungeon.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, requests are currently open, so request here in the comments or on my Tumblr (http://www.whenputtingpentopaper.tumblr.com). I am currently accepting requests for headcanons, blurbs, drabbles & one-shots!


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